The End Is The End Is The End
by LittleVolodya
Summary: Depressed!Romano. Mentions of self-harm.


Warnings: Self-harm. Depression. Suicidal thoughts. One-sided Spamano, though that isn't the focus of this.

* * *

Why does the air feel so lonely, Romano thinks to himself, as if every breath might turn into a sob and echo in the emptiness like a rock thrown into a lake. The marks and ripples may fade, but the cause stays within the depths, hiding in the dark, a reminder, of the pain and the seemingly never-ending boredom. He scoffs. These are foolish thoughts. He feels silly and stupid for thinking these things. Alone in his room spewing bad poetry and being melodramatic. In the dark, even. It's a cliche. He's a cliche.

Every move feels calculated, overthought and overacted. A smile and somehow they still can't see how _forced_ all of this is. He hates this. He feels like a puppet.

The strings pull him to a sitting position. He moves woodenly through his morning routine. Cleaning because the tedious movements distract him, at least for a little while. He longs to be among people until the moment he is and then he wants nothing more than to get away from it all. Everything makes him tired, but he hates himself more for pulling away. Tired, tired, tired.

The doorbell rings, shrill and insistent. Romano blinks. The dish he's holding has long been suds-free, and his hands are red from the cold water from the tap. The sun hangs high among the clouds. He shuts the water off.

He doesn't want to answer the door, he doesn't want to move. ' _Please go away.'_

He opens the door.

"Roma!" Antonio says with a laugh and latches himself onto Romano.

' _Like a leech._ '

"What do you want?" He leaves out the profanity, too tired to deal with this and he hopes Antonio gets the hint for once and leaves him the fuck alone.

"Let's go get lunch! Pasta, if you want!" Antonio has that dopey smile on his face again.

 _'I'm not hungry. And even if I were, I wouldn't eat with you. I'm sorry for being like this.'_

"No thanks."

The words seem to go into Antonio's brain and become something more agreeable. Something positive, maybe sweet. Or maybe he sees beyond the words. He smiles again, bright and sunny, and pulls Romano outside.

 _'He never listens.'_ Romano thinks, almost fondly. _'At least he closed the door this time.'_

-'

There are times where everything he sees makes him want to cry. He wants so badly to be stronger than this. He hates that he cries into his pillow at night until he falls asleep. Hates that even when he's having fun, darkness clings to him like smoke at a bonfire, choking him. He hates waking up angry, and how one minute Feli means the world to him and then out of nowhere, at least it would seem that way to anyone not in his mind, and even to himself he feels crazy, in the next minute he can't stand being in the same room as him. So he'll lash out, tongue sharp and eyes flashing.

Most of the time the words don't deter Feli, he'll look past all the jagged edges and see something Romano can't. Other times he'll frown in Romano's direction, Romano thinks he looks weird when he's not smiling, and he seems so disappointed. He always closes the door so quietly when he leaves. Romano hates that for reasons he doesn't care to find meaning to. Everyone leaves.

 _'Please don't leave me. I'm sorry. I'm a terrible person. I don't want to be alone.'_

A text from his brother soothes his panic for a little while. Feli likes to send him pictures of his cats, when he knows Romano is upset and as apologies for not staying. He sends pictures of Ludwig's dogs and Gilbert's little bird. Romano pretends not to like them. Feli sends more.

 _'I'm sorry for making you worry. I'll try to be better.'_

-'

Sometimes he wakes up to his mouth tasting like blood and crescent moons carved into his palms from where he had curled his hands into fists in his sleep.

-'

Feli texts to say sorry, but something came up, we'll do lunch next week. Punctuated by exclamation points and smiley faces that are probably meant to soften the blow.

Romano just sends back: okay.

He stops himself from sending anything else, he knows how it would play out. He doesn't want to give Feli any more reasons to be disappointed in him. Still though, he can't stop the heavy flood of panic and despair. And the feeling that maybe he did something wrong and Feli's mad at him.

' _I'm sorry for whatever it is. Please don't hate me.'_

He doesn't say it. He knows Feli is tired of having to constantly reassure him that of course he loves him, of course he's not angry.

 _'I'm sorry, little brother. I wish I wasn't broken.'_

-'

The doorbell rings.

 _'Antonio.'_

He's the only person besides Feli that ever comes to his house. And Feli never announces his arrival, he just waltzes in like he owns the place. Romano doesn't mind, most of the time.

The thought of Feli waltzing is slightly amusing.

The doorbell rings.

Romano drags himself out of bed to answer it.

He's pulled into a hug as soon as he opens the door.

Antonio is talking, Romano catches the names Gilbert and Francis so he tunes out the words. Antonio's voice is comforting, everything about him is. Romano smiles at the thought, today might be a good day.

 _'I missed you.'_

-'

Antonio's words hang in the air, delicate and hopeful. Three words. Three words that they've said to each other before because they're best friends, but this time is different.

 _'Why are you doing this to me, Toni. I can't. I can't.'_

"You're my best friend."

-'

Antonio closes the door quietly too.

 _'I'm so sorry, Toni.'_

On puppet strings, Romano walks through the house, shutting off lights as he goes.

Romano thinks of blond hair and potatoes, he laughs to himself hollowly, and wishes he could love Antonio back. It would be easier. He knows how it hurts and now he's a disappointment again. It's too much. He's angry with Antonio for doing this. For springing this on him when he already feels so overwhelmed with everything else. Too much, too much, too much.

' _You deserve better than me.'_

The house is dark and Romano collapses on the couch.

 _'Why am I always hurting the people I care about.'_

-'

Like so many times before, he ends up in the harsh, judgemental light of the bathroom.

' _I want to be happy. I want to be normal. I want to get better.'_

The thin red lines aren't very deep, he wouldn't want to worry Feli, they criss-cross over dozens of old scars. Maybe one day, he'll fall to pieces.

He rinses the blood away under the freezing tap.

Why is it that the happy moments fade so quickly?

Romano can't honestly remember the last time he felt completely happy. He wishes he had cut deeper this time. But, he's too afraid, he doesn't want to leave Feli alone in the world and despite what he says all the time, he doesn't want to be alone either. All of this will fade, he knows. He's done this before, after all.

He'll sleep it off.

And wake up new and hollow tomorrow.

* * *

Notes: One-sided Germano too, I guess. I'm not good at writing Romano, I'm sorry for making him like this? Most of this is based off my own dealings with depression. So, review if you want to.


End file.
